Chapter 10: Could I hate my own sister?

I did not know how long I stayed in the bathtub. At some point, the water rose too high. At some point, I stopped trying to stay aware. Everything faded.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in bed, dressed, weak, and empty.

After that night, something inside me changed.

I could not stand the thought of Rowan coming near me again. I locked myself inside his room and only stepped onto the balcony when I felt trapped inside. The only people I allowed near me were Dante and Emalia. Rowan had gone to Japan, but instead of relief, I felt something else. He had broken something in me and walked away.

More than a month passed while I lived in this house as Zaria. His words stayed in my head, and I kept trying to understand what had happened. I knew the truth about myself. No man had touched me before him. So why did he think otherwise? And if he knew I was not Zaria, why was I still alive?

Nothing in this place made sense.

That afternoon, Emalia brought lunch while Dante sat on my lap.

“It is time to eat, Madam,” she said softly.

She placed the tray in front of me, but I had no appetite. My body felt drained. I had been running a fever for two days, and even sitting upright took effort.

“Please eat,” she said. “If you fall ill, Master will be angry.”

Her words meant nothing. Angry was his normal state. Angry filled this house.

Still, I picked up the spoon and forced myself to eat because Dante was watching me.

Emalia lifted him from my lap.

“Where are you taking him?” I asked.

“His nanny will feed him, and then he has lessons.”

I let out a slow breath. “Stay with me while I eat.”

She smiled with a sense of apology. “I am sorry, Madam. I am not allowed to eat with you.”

“I want you to stay anyway,” I added with a low voice. “I miss my family. My parents must be worried.”

Emalia looked confused for a moment, then hid it.

“When Master returns, you can ask for permission to visit them.”

I gave a small, bitter smile. “He will not allow it.”

She watched me closely, clearly worried. My face had gone pale, and my body still burned with fever.

I kept eating, even though every bite felt like work.

“You should rest after this,” she said.

“I am tired of resting. I am tired of living like this. I would rather die than stay here forever.” The words slipped out and I paused for a while. “The one who should be here is not me. I am the one paying for everything.”

She did not understand. To her, I was still Zaria.

“Madam, please do not think too much. Think about young master.”

A bitter laugh rose in my throat, then turned into tears.

“If I could leave, I would take Dante with me,” I said. “And if death is the only way out, maybe I...”

“Do not say that.” Emalia dropped to her knees beside me. “If you die, I will die too. Master will kill me and my family because I failed to protect you.”

I closed my eyes.

My life had become a trap. I could not even die without dragging someone else down with me. And in the middle of all that pain, anger rose toward the person who caused all of this.

Could I hate my own sister? I already did.

Zaria had left me here and gone somewhere else to enjoy her life. She did not care what happened to me or our parents. She did not care that every step I took in this house felt like walking toward death.

Why did Uncle come to me? Why did he ask me to take your place? Why did you not care about the family that raised you?

Suddenly a gunshot rang through the house.

Then another. Emalia and I both looked toward the door. I did not move.

I had learned enough to know that curiosity could get someone killed. Someone downstairs was either dying or killing. That was normal in this house.

I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe Rowan had returned. Maybe he would come for me next.

I did not care about Zaria anymore. I did not care about my uncle either. Whatever bond I once felt as a sister was breaking apart.

Hate was easier now. If Rowan wanted my life, he could take it. I only prayed he would leave my parents out of it.

Author’s pov

Rowan had never known what it meant to love a woman and feel at peace. His first marriage had not been his choice. It had been arranged by his grandfather at a time when he was still young and had no real power to refuse. From the very beginning, there was no warmth between him and the woman he was forced to marry. They lived under the same roof, shared the same bed, and carried the same name, but everything between them felt empty.

Over time, that emptiness turned into something worse.

His wife did not stay loyal to him. While Rowan was busy building his name and expanding his influence, she was with another man behind his back. The betrayal did not stop there. She gave birth to two daughters, and for years, Rowan believed they were his. He carried the responsibility of being their father without knowing the truth.

When the truth finally came out, it did not break him. It changed him.

The girls were not his blood, and the woman he had been tied to had never truly belonged to him. From that moment on, Rowan became a changed man. He stopped expecting anything real from women. He stopped believing in loyalty. He stopped caring about anything beyond control and power.

He kept the children, not out of love, but as punishment. Their mother lost everything, including the right to raise them. Rowan made sure she lived with that loss.

The life he built after that was filled with distance, anger, and a quiet kind of cruelty hidden beneath his calm face. People saw him as a dangerous man, someone who could destroy lives without hesitation. They were not wrong.

By the time Zella entered his world, Rowan no longer trusted easily. He had been shaped by betrayal, and every lie only pushed him further into that darkness.